Not Kin
by August7th
Summary: Canon, one-shot. Will be of particular interest to anyone involved in genealogy/family history. Reviews welcomed.


If you are unfamiliar with family history Web sites, rest assured that what happens in this vignette could happen in reality. While the Web site in the story is fictitious, what it contains is modeled after real life counterparts. The characters from BBM belong to Annie Proux, not me. The other characters appearing here were invented by me and are not based on any living person in Riverton, Wyoming, or anywhere else.

* * *

**Not Kin**

Ennis Del Mar sat in his truck staring at the building across the street. He had never been in a library in his life and, until two weeks ago, had seen no reason to change that after 65 years. But then his granddaughter Margie had stopped by to see him.

Margie was interested in learning more about her "roots," as she put it, and had asked him a bunch of questions about his parents and grandparents. He knew she had been disappointed at just how little he knew. "I was able to get a lot more information from Grandmom about her side of the family," she'd said to drive home the point. Then she'd shown him several charts about Alma's family, illustrated with photographs of Alma, her parents, and grandparents, and full of names, dates, and places.

"Now, where did you say these papers came from?" he'd asked.

"They're copies from the family tree I started on the YourAncestors Web site. On the Internet. I put the photos and information on there. Thousands of people from all over the country are sharing their family trees that way. I learned about it at the meetings of the county genealogical society." There was a note of pride in her voice, for Margie tended to brag a little about who and what she knew.

"Does that mean that anybody can look at this on a computer?"

"If they got internet access and a subscription. And that's all free at the library."

And now here he was, probably on a wild goose chase. No way he would ask Margie to do this for him. In fact, he'd waited until he knew she was working her Saturday shift, so that he wouldn't risk running into her. So, feeling about as uncomfortable as he had in a long time, he walked through the front doors and up to a woman at a desk marked "Information." After getting the gist of what he was after, she suggested talking to a volunteer in the Local History and Genealogy Room.

Going where he'd been told, he was relieved to find the room empty except for a small, plump woman, probably about his own age but with suspiciously dark hair. For her part, Eula Moubray looked up from the desk to see a wiry, grizzled older man who'd obviously spent much of his life outdoors; tan, wrinkled, weather-beaten. A ranch hand, she guessed. Definitely not her usual clientele.

He spoke in a low voice and tended not to meet her eyes, and it soon became apparent that he wasn't one hundred percent sure what he was asking about. But Eula was used to that from people who were new to genealogy. Once she figured out he must be talking about YourAncestors, she led him over to a computer.

After he stared at the machine for a few seconds with a growing look of unease, she asked, "Have you ever used a computer before?"

"No ma'am."

"Well then, I guess this'll go quicker if I help you out a bit. You tell me the information about the person you want to look up and I'll type it in for you." She sat down and told him to pull up another chair.

At her prompting, he told her the name, year of birth, year of death. She typed, and the computer screen changed. After looking at it, she said, "Well, none of these results look like the right person." But as he started to rise from his chair, she stopped him, saying, "Hold on, hold on, there's usually more than one way to skin a cat. Can you give me any more information, like names of parents or spouse?" He told her what he could, and she tapped away again at the keyboard. After new results appeared on the screen, she said, "That one looks promising. In the Newsome-Stewart Family Tree."

The screen changed again. He just sat, staring silently, until she asked, "Is that him?" To which he managed to reply, "Yes ma'am."

"So that's why we didn't find him the first time. We were searching for 'Jack Twist' and he's listed under his full name, 'John C. Twist, Jr.'"

Eula continued to talk about the quirks of computer searching, but Ennis barely heard her. He just stared at the face next to the name on the screen. But he tuned back in again when she said, "He sure was a fine looking man. Let's take a closer look at these photos."

There were three, which she enlarged one by one. A mustached Jack from later years, looking serious in a studio portrait with a woman and boy who must have been Lureen and Bobby. A slightly younger Jack, minus the mustache, standing squinting into the sun next to a large combine on a gravel lot. And the third photo, the one that took his breath away. A youthful Jack astride a horse, smiling broadly for the camera.

He realized that the woman was asking him a question. "What?" he said.

"Would you like copies of the photos and the chart?" Eula repeated. "25¢ a page for color printouts."

"Yes, thank you, ma'am."

"Well, I'm glad we found him. Now, how are you two related?"

Ennis paused a moment. "Actually we're not kin, ma'am. He was a friend of mine."


End file.
